Anne Comes to Grief in an Affair of Honor
by StoryMama
Summary: Anne walks the ridgepole of Moody McPherson's kitchen at Josie's dare. In this version, Anne hits her head on her way down, rendering herself not killed, but unconscious.
1. Chapter 1 - Pride Comes Before the Fall

_**Anne walks the ridgepole of Moody McPherson's kitchen at Josie's dare. In this version, Anne hits her head on her way down, rendering herself not killed, but unconscious. It's a blend of Megan Follow's canon and the books, with a liberal sprinkling of my own interpretations. The timeline doesn't quite follow either version as I've made Gilbert almost 17 and Anne a spunky 14 years old - an almost woman with some very childlike tendencies.**_

 _ **I own none of the characters, just a vivid imagination. All characters belong in the Anne of Green Gables world, which is trademarked by the late L.M. Montgomery.**_

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"Anne, Anne? Wake up Anne! Anne, are you killed?" Diana cried.

Just moments earlier, Anne was on top of the McPherson roof, defying Josie and gravity as she walked along the roofline. Anne made it as far as the chimney and turned around with a triumphant toss of her head. Her confidence was short lived as her heel caught on the ridgepole, causing her to lose her balance. She fell backwards with a shriek and her classmates heard the thud before they rounded the corner of the house.

To her classmates standing around her, Anne Shirley looked like a forgotten ragdoll. Tossed outside the kitchen window at the McPherson's house, lying with one leg bent underneath her plain blue dress that now had smudges and a horrible tear up the side. Her red hair splayed out across the tangle of the Virginia Creeper that caught her during her tumble down the roof.

Gilbert was the first one to reach Anne. He kneeled beside her, half expecting her to slap him away as he lifted up her head and felt for cuts. When she failed to respond, he checked for a pulse.

The small party was quiet, watching as Gilbert held Anne's wrist while Diana sobbed beside her friend. Gilbert felt a pulse but he couldn't tell if it was Anne's or his own. He moved his hand in front of Anne's mouth to see if he could feel her breath.

When Josie Pye saw Gilbert lean over Anne, she knew Anne was dead. Josie, who had never suffered from much of any imagination, was seized by the vision of a future spent branded as Anne Shirley's killer. That future did not include any diamond sunbursts or marble halls, but a bleak asylum and being outcast from the very society she felt she had been born to rule. All because of her mean spirited ways towards Anne. "I didn't mean for - I didn't know she'd -. I'm so sorry, I'll never - Oh Diana!"

"This isn't about you, Josie." Diana cried. "This is the most tragical thing that has ever happened - Anne, oh, Anne!" She turned to her friend while Josie slowly backed away from the group.

With a scarlet "M" for murderess emblazoned on her soul, Josie ran away from the McPherson farm in hysterics. Jane and Ruby ran through the gate, past Prissy Andrews climbing into a buggy with a small satchel clasped firmly in her hands, and down past Mrs. Lynde's front porch as they tried to catch up with their oldest friend.

"She's not dead," Gilbert said quietly. He straightened up and leaned back on his heels while letting out a deep breath. His Anne-Girl would live. Live to fight another day. He stared at her pale face with it's dapple of freckles, thinking he had never seen such a more beautiful girl in the world. "Moody, go fetch the doctor. Tell him to go directly to Green Gables."

Moody nodded, "You can take her in our cart."

"I'm afraid that won't work," said Mr. McPherson from inside the kitchen window. "The buggy has disappeared. Moody, you run for the Doctor."

In Avonlea that night the news that spread like wildfire was not how Anne Shirley had fallen off the ridgepole of Moody McPherson's kitchen. Nor was it that Gilbert Blythe had scandalously carried Anne in his arms the two miles to Green Gables while Diana Barry and Fred Wright followed him.

No, the news that burned hottest on people's lips that night was that Mr. Phillips had stolen away from his own going away party early, taking with him the McPherson's buggy and Prissy Andrews.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Lady Sleepeth

"I don't care about any of the gossip about that fool Phillips," said Marilla dryly. "I have a fool of my own who still hasn't woken up yet. I'm worried about her far more than I am the plight of Prissy Andrews and Teddy Phillips."

Rachel Lynde looked at her friend. Marilla's hair was up in a tighter bun than normal and her kitchen hadn't been swept twice that day, but those were the only signs visible signs that something was wrong. And the light, the light that had only recently begun to shine in her eyes was fading again.

It had been two days since Anne fell off the ridgepole. Two days and the girl still slept.

Marilla had been in the orchard, picking a bucket of summer apples for a end of school pie for Anne, when she saw Gilbert coming over the log bridge and the slope, with Diana and Fred following him mournfully. In his arms, he had carried Anne, whose head lay limply against his shoulder.

"What's she done this time, Mr. Blythe?" Marilla asked archly. She had always felt a bittersweet fondness towards Gilbert, first rejoicing that Anne had broken her slate over his head, and then wishing with every bone in her body that the girl would forgive him. Never in her broadening scope of imagination did she ever think he would come through the pastures with Anne in his arms.

"She fell, Ms. Cuthbert," Gilbert said quietly.

"Fell? From where?" she asked, "Don't tell me the girl got swept away by her imagination again. Or was it pride this time?"

It was Diana who broke the news, "Anne fell from the ridgepole of Moody McPherson's kitchen roof."

"I've always said that pride comes before a fall, but Anne, you sure took the cake on this one. Lands' sakes child, when will you ever learn?" Marilla put the apples down, wiped her hands on her apron, and leaned forward to take a look at Anne. The child had not moved yet. Surely she was embarrassed about the way she was nestled against Gilbert's chest. But maybe that shame was less than that of her actions. That must be it.

Marilla waited for Anne to speak. For anyone to speak. But the only sound she heard was the wind rustling through the long pasture grass, and then when no one spoke, her own cry.

It was then that Marilla saw the truth. Anne was the daughter of her own heart. She was not an inconvenience or a charity case. Anne was just as much a Cuthbert as Marilla was. The thought of losing her made her heart tighten queerly. "Is she...?"

Diana's arms caught her as her knees buckled. "She's alive Marilla but she's...sleeping."

Gilbert took the lead, carrying the weight of Anne and the hearts of the people beside him. He wasn't the only one who loved Anne. No, he was just one of many. The redheaded orphan had more kindred spirits in her life than she had ever hoped to imagine.

Moody and the doctor were waiting on the front porch when they reached Green Gables. Marilla opened the door and led them into the parlor. Gilbert gently, reverently laid Anne down on the divan while the doctor opened up his bag.

"What's wrong with my little girl?"

Matthew.

Matthew had come in a few moments later, wondering what all the commotion was about. Normally a shy man, he wouldn't have questioned the small parade that entered his house. But something told him that this wasn't a normal day on the farm.

Gilbert recounted the experience, answering the Cuthbert's questions as well as he could. "It was a terrible accident."

Marilla watched as the doctor waved a small vial of smelling salts under Anne's nose. The girl did not move.

After a few more minutes of inspecting Anne, the doctor stood up. "She's unconscious. Sleeping."

"But why won't she wake up?" Diana asked.

The doctor paused, "When Anne fell, I think she hit her brain. Now, her vitals are fine. Her pulse is strong and her breath is sure. But she's got some bruising on her ankle - it may be broken. If I'm right, she also has some bruising on her brain. I can keep trying to wake her up, but your Anne is stubborn. She'll wake up when she's read to."

"What if she never wakes up?"

"That's a possibility. There was a case in West Grafton of a man who hit his head and never woke up. Before you go and faint on me, Miss Barry, I'll have you also know that there have been many, many more cases of people who have hit their heads and woken up to be real fine. The brain is a delicate organ. The best we can hope for is for Anne to wake up. We'll worry about the rest then."

Marilla repeated the story to Rachel, "The doctor says we just have to wait and see. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away."

"You don't have to be strong, Marilla. She's your own flesh and blood just as much as Matthew is." Rachel poured Marilla a saucer of tea. "It's okay to say that you are scared witless and fearful."

"I can't. That girl means the world to me, but at this moment, Matthew is upstairs by her side. I doubt that he'll leave her until one of them passes away. His heart is hurting him again and I can't think about what that means. Losing one of them would be hard enough - but losing both of them would be more than even Atlas could bear."


	3. Chapter 3 - The Mysterious Ways

**Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement! I'm having a lot of fun with my first fan-fic. I probably won't be posting a new chapter every day, but I'm enjoying the productivity while I have it!**

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Matthew stared at the wallpaper in Anne's room. The faint pattern was one that Anne had picked out herself; she had said that it reminded her of the happy feeling one got at the very beginning of summer.

It was Sunday night. The minister and doctor had left already, taking with them any bit of life that was left in the building. If Matthew felt anything, it was the familiar thick gray fog of gloom that had snuck up on Green Gables years before. He had to fight it for Anne's sake. It would not do for her to wake up to find Matthew and Marilla back in their hermit shells like they had been when she first came to the Island.

The sky was just starting to get dark and Matthew knew that he should climb into his own bed tonight instead of falling asleep in the wicker chair by Anne's bed. His own body ached with pains that he doubted would ever fully go away.

But oh, how he hated to leave his little girl's side.

A new rhythm had begun to emerge on the farm. In the morning, Jerry Boute and his brothers came over to help with the chores. And as soon as he was done at his parent's farm, Gilbert Blythe could be seen cutting across Orchard Slope and through the Haunted Wood to Green Gables.

Gilbert.

Oh how Anne would have blushed and sputtered if she knew how often Gilbert showed up at Green Gables. Matthew had heard of Gil- many times from Anne. She could never say his full name and if Matthew's suspicion was correct, Anne had carried far more about "Gil-" than she had let on.

No doubt she'd be pleased by the way Gilbert was helping keep the farm going. Or by the way he left her little bouquets of flowers every day. He had given Marilla a small bouquet of Lilies of the Valley a few hours ago, tied up with a bit of twine.

If Anne was awake, Matthew would have heard his fill of what she thought of Gilbert Blythe. But from the way he saw it, maybe it was a good thing Anne didn't know. One day she'd wake up to what a promising young man that Blythe boy was. One day.

There were many things that Anne did not know about the Blythes, the Barrys, and the Cuthberts. Secrets that weren't exactly hidden, but not talked about around the younger generation.

She didn't know that Marilla had once been courted by John Blythe or that Matthew had once been "dead gone" on her Diana's Aunt Josephine. He had even copied out some poems and sent them to her. Anonymously of course. Matthew never was a man much for courting but there was something lively about that Josephine that he had greatly admired.

But tragedy had changed the course the Cuthberts lives just as they were starting to hold a golden, growing promise. While their would be lovers had gone on to live vibrant lives, Matthew and Marilla had just grown older and grayer before their time.

Matthew quit going into town and Marilla spent as little time in Avonlea as she could. She still went to church on Sundays, but Matthew couldn't. Not with those reminders of the pain. By the time the gossip had finally settled down years later, the Cuthberts weren't as much forgotten as they were firmly categorized as strange hermits. If it hadn't been for Rachel Lynde and her sometimes bothersome ways, the Cuthberts would have faded away quietly. It wasn't until Anne stepped foot on Green Gables that life came back to the farm.

She had enchanted him with her talk of fairies and dryads. It's like she had brought in a bit of magic with the sea breeze and her large gray eyes. He didn't understand half of what she said but he enjoyed listening to her happy prattle.

Matthew shook his head, no, there was much that Anne didn't know.

One day, one day he'd tell her. Tell her how he had always wished for a daughter and how he was the one who had told Mrs. Spencer to get a girl. There had been no mistake. Not really. Not ever. Providence knew what he was doing when Anne Shirley came into his life.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Lady Dreams

Anne woke up with a start.

The moon was bright, filling her room with beams so luminescent that she wanted to bathe in them.

She rolled over to her left side and lifted her head back to look out the window. The dear old world looked just the same as she had remembered. The dryads were dancing in the meadow and she could hear the crickets singing under her window.

Across the room, Anne could see Marilla's shawl draped across the back of the wicker chair. The amethyst brooch sparkled in the moonlight. She smiled, how she loved that piece more than any diamond she had ever imagined to have seen. But it wasn't like Marilla to leave her shawl in Anne's room. It belonged hanging up on the hook tucked just underneath the stairs where it was in easy reach.

She'd have to return it before Marilla noticed it was gone. Marilla would be furious if she saw the broach was missing! They'd been through that before.

She sat up in her bed, adjusting the sheets. She frowned as a sharp pain shot up her leg when she tried to move. The pale bandages around her ankle shone in the liquid moonlight. Her ankle was twice as thick as it should have been. There would be no sneaking out into the meadow to dance with the dryads tonight, nor would she be putting Marilla's shawl back. She'd be lucky if she could get out of bed let alone down the stairs.

What had she done?

Like a lightning bolt, it all came back.

The surprise going away party for Mr. Phillips at the McPherson farm. None of the students were excited about the party. Going away parties were strange, especially when it came to this one. Was the proper response to mourn or to celebrate? None of the students had known the answer which is why they had hung back from the party, choosing to stay outside instead of going inside to say their goodbyes. Anne thought herself an accomplished actress, but even she could not produce tears at the thought of the teacher's departure.

The only student at the Avonlea school who was able to feel any sort of emotion for the teacher was Prissy Andrews. And even she had been a strange mix of emotions - she had seemed much more reserved and levelheaded than someone who was losing the love of her life due to a disagreement with the school board. But maybe that was just the Andrew way. They were Avonlea royalty and royalty wasn't allowed the same range of public emotion as the masses. Anne had read that in a book once, pitying the royal families of the world ever since. How horrible it would be not to share your emotions with those around you!

That certainly wasn't the Pye way. Josie and her sisters had been at the party - they never missed a social setting. Josie had mocked Prissy once out of earshot, saying that she would have flung herself into her love's arms at the thought of being separated. In her usual understated way, she had then thrown herself at Gilbert Blythe, winking at Anne as she did.

Gilbert had caught Josie - what other choice did he have? Anne had almost felt sorry for _that person_. No one deserved that kind of clinging. It was one thing to express your emotions and quite another thing to make a spectacle of yourself - Anne had heard that from Marilla many times in the last two years and was starting to believe it herself.

Anne blushed when she remembered that she had voiced those opinions out loud. What followed was the latest skirmish in the war of wills between Josie and Anne. This time the casualty was Anne's pride...and ankle. Had she really fallen off? The last thing she remembered was looking down at Josie and seeing Gilbert Blythe's face. He looked...concerned. That had given her a strange little feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her wish they were friends. That she had told him she forgave him.

Instead, she fell off the roof.

How utterly unromantic. Now he probably thought she was uncoordinated as well as spiteful. Not that she cared what he thought. Much.

It was only in the middle of the night and in the safety of her room that Anne would admit that not only was Gilbert a worthy foe, he probably would have been a chum if he hadn't called her Carrots. But such thoughts were only safe to air when no one else was around to see the chinks in Anne's armor. If her imagination was the shield that had kept her safe from the effect of the harsh realities of her life, her pride was the breastplate, her intellect the helmet, and her cutting wit the sword. One day she would have to dismantle the armor but not today. She'd dismantle it when her own knight in shining armor came. Then she'd be the lady in the green kirtle, more bewitching than Guinevere, and lovelier than words could ever dare to express. One day.

She glanced over at the small table under the window. There, stems wrapped hastily in twine, were a half dozen lily-of-the-valleys. Her favorites.

Matthew must have brought them to her.

Kind, dear Matthew. He was the father and grandfather she never had all rolled into one man in overalls. He never talked about the stories that made him who he was. She had heard whispers from Diana and the Pye girls, but no one knew the truth. Maybe one day he would tell her but Anne knew the value in letting the past stay dead. She could imagine all sorts of wild adventures that had mellowed Matthew into the caring man that he was now. It was safer to imagine. Matthew was far better than any imaginary knight in shining armor. He was her flesh and blood champion.

Nestling back down on her pillow, she snatched the bouquet and laid it on her chest. Yes, she was Anne of Green Gables and she was home in her own bed. But tonight, she was Elaine, the lady of Shalott.

One day she would tell Gilbert Blythe that she forgave him. Maybe even one day they'd be chums. Until then, she would dream of a forbodden secret suitor who left bouquets in her bedroom as she languished in her sleep. Now that was romantical.

When Marilla came in the next morning, Anne was still sleeping. But a bouquet of was resting under a chin and she looked as though she smiled in her sleep.

Her Anne was back.

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 **So many kind notes from people! Thank you!**

 **I'm trying to flesh out some of the Avonlea characters. In many ways, they are familiar strangers to me. But each one of them has a world of stories encased in their skin. Histories and emotions that swirl, little universes centered around each one of them. We're just used to an Anne-centered universe. So. I'm trying to peek in on the other planets and find out what makes them tick. This is still very much Anne's story...but let's just imagine for a bit.**


	5. Chapter 5 - The Affairs of the Heart

Once again, Anne would be upstaged by the gossip in Avonlea. Outside of the small circle of the friends, no one knew that she had been sleeping for three days or that the doctor feared she'd never wake up again. So when Jerry Boute came into town whistling that Miss Anne was awake, no one paid the beaming lad mind.

Everyone had heard that Anne had fallen and hurt herself, but they were too fascinated with Josie Pye's change of appearance at church the day before. She shorn her hair clear off with her father's sheep shears and worn her oldest dress even though her wrists and ankles stuck out.

When Josie's mother asked her what in heaven's name had gotten into her, she simply said that she was repenting of her grievous sin like she had heard about in Sunday School. Sackcloth and ashes were fine for the children of Israel, but they were certainly not acceptable for the children of Avonlea. Mrs. Pye would be having word with the Allan family about the Sunday School curriculum.

The Pyes were humiliated but in Pye fashion, they took perverse pleasure in the fact that it was the Andrews who were the talk of the entire town. People could make passing comments about Josie's hair but they could not stop talking about the mysterious fate of Prissy Andrews

"I heard they were headin' over to Bright River," said Jasper Dale as he sipped his morning coffee outside the mercantile. "I 'spect they are goin' to the train station."

"Not the train station," said one of the Kings, passing through on their way to collect the morning papers, "They'll want to get off the island and fast. Carmody and the sea would be where I would look for them."

"If Prissy were my daughter, I'd give her a good spanking," said Josiah Pye who had come in town early that morning just to hear the latest gossip. "Running away with the school teacher!"

"Sixteen years old is a little old to be spanked," remarked Mr. McPherson dryly. "Maybe it's best that you never married. Besides, it seems like your family has trouble of their own. You don't need to add to the troubles of the Andrews by spreading tales."

Josiah spit on the ground, "I'm free to comment on whatever I like. It's not my fault the orphan girl was fool enough to listen to my niece." Josiah would never admit that he did not care for his namesake niece but felt like he had to defend her as best as he could.

"You will not raise a word against Anne Shirley or Josie Pye," said Thomas Lynde, speaking up from the porch of the mercantile where he sat sipping coffee and playing checkers with Reverend Allan. He spoke rarely so the town turned to listen. "Those girls are young and still making mistakes. We all have tales from when we were young that would raise the hair on our neck now. No, leave those girls be."

"I'd just like my horse and buggy back," said Mr. McPherson. "Malcolm and Moody have been out all weekend looking for them."

"That was some bad luck, that school teacher taking your horse like that. Added insult to injury."

"Now friends," said Rev. Allan, "It isn't right to be talking about our neighbors like this. We'd all like to see Miss Andrews recovered, but unless you are out looking for them, I suggest you refrain from commenting about them."

But the fair people of Avonlea were not listening to the Reverend Allan. They were already rushing towards the figure of Moody McPherson leading the horse and buggy through town. Beside him walked Mr. Andrews, his head hung low.

"What happened?"

"Where are they? Were they recovered?"

Moody and Mr. Andrews ignored the townspeople and their pointed questions. They kept walking until they reached Mr. McPherson.

"Michael, I am very sorry that your horse and buggy were taken. Very sorry indeed. I'm sure you and everyone else have questions. But for now, I must go to my wife and family. I ask that the rest of you give us some space for awhile."

Mr. McPherson nodded and pulled his friend into a tight hug. "You go and do what you need to do. We'll give you your space."

Mr. Andrews pulled away, wiped a tear from his eye, and then handed Michael McPherson a folded up note. "This will explain everything. Please read it to the town."

The town watched as once proud Mr. Andrews walked towards his house. He was a man of honor who had been brought low. A family man who had been spurned by his favorite daughter. He would not be running for mayor this year

Mr. McPherson picked up the note, read it silently as his eyes grew wider and wider, and then handed it to Reverend Allan to read aloud to those gathered.

 _In a town like Avonlea, secrets spread like wildfire. So to avoid even more gossip, I shall lay the facts bare in a note to the town._

 _I, Prissy Andrews, being of age and of a sound mind, do declare that I am in love with Teddy Phillips. By the time you all receive this note, I shall no longer be Prissy Andrews, but Prissy Phillips. It was not my intent to leave suddenly or in disgrace, but my friends, you have left me no choice._

 _For the last several months, Teddy's position as school teacher has been called into question. It is true that his uncle arranged the position for him. It is true that he was not the most qualified person to teach and it is true that his students, your children, were often unruly and unmanageable. It is also true that you have long undermined his authority by spreading willful falsehoods about our courtship._

 _I am no blushing bride, although you may not realize that. To you, I will always be the child bride whisked away in the bloom of her sixteenth year. I go into this marriage with my eyes wide open, knowing that I am forsaking all that I have known. It will be small comfort to my parents that I will be continuing my education in Boston. I have been accepted in a small college and will be pursuing my BA as my parents have long encouraged me to. But I will not be doing this as a single woman, but as a married Mrs. Phillips._

 _I know that you have also contracted a replacement for Teddy. You owe me nothing but as a child of Avonlea, I must ask you a few things -_

 _I ask you not to whisper about the new school teacher behind her back. Do not dare compare her to my Teddy or hold him as the golden standard. No teacher should be measured in the same way that you measured my husband. Do not erode the respect her students owe her by whispers, lies, and things you may have heard a neighbor say. If she is courted during her tenure, do not insert yourself in the courtship. Instead, smile and encourage her, for love is bewildering and everyone must fall in love._

 _I ask you to encourage your students to follow their academic pursuits. Not everyone will make it to college, nor should everyone be encouraged to go. I can hold my head up high, knowing that even in my "disgrace" I have honored my parents and my ambitions as I go to school._

 _Finally, I ask you to continue to hold my parents in high esteem. My parents had asked me to pursue education instead of love. Instead, I have chosen to pursue education with my love. If you think of this as a scandal, realize that it was you, my beloved friends of Avonlea, who made it such. The Andrews family has done no wrong. Please do not treat them as pariahs._

 _I hope to see you all again one day. It is out of love and a dash of idealism that I write this. My train is about to leave -_

 _Always yours,_

 _Prissy Phillips_

No, Anne Shirley waking up was nothing to talk about that day in Avonlea. Truth be told, half of the town didn't feel like talking, while the other half couldn't stop their tongues from wagging.

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 **Whew - that was a long chapter. I hope you like it. Prissy always seemed like a background character who things happened to. I wanted to question that assumption and give her a little more say in her story.**

 **The end of my vacation is here and it's back to work I go. I'll try to get a chapter a week up until this story resolves!**


	6. Chapter 6 - The World is Fresh

Anne woke up at half past eleven and her head still hurt.

"It's about time you woke up," came Marilla's voice from the other side of the room.

If Anne hadn't known better, she would have thought that Marilla's voice conveyed an unexpected warmth. But no, that must be her imagination getting the better of her. There was no reason for Marilla to be excited about the ordinary act of waking up in the morning - even if it was a bit delayed in the day.

"How long was I asleep?" Anne asked.

"Three and a half days."

Anne must have heard incorrectly. "Three and a half _days_?" She knew Marilla didn't like it when she talked in italics but it slipped out. Marilla had to have, must have, misspoken. She clearly didn't have the imagination to make something like that up, nor did she have the sense of humor to joke so.

"Three and a half _days."_ Marilla echoed, italics and all. Her eyebrows were raised halfway up her forehead as she leaned forward, "You gave us quite the scare young lady. The doctor didn't know if you'd ever wake up. As it is, we'll have to keep our eyes on you to make sure your brain wasn't addled during your fall."

"Great Jehosaphat!"

"That's no language for a young lady. However...that may describe exactly how Matthew and I felt when we found out what happened."

"I'm sorry to have worried you so, Marilla. I know that my temper is terrible and my pride sometimes get the best of me, but I can promise you sincerely that I will never _ever_ let Josie Pye get the best of me ever again. I have come to see the foolishness of my ways," Anne said in a rush. Marilla must have been concerned. And Matthew! He must have been sick with grief!

"I'm glad to see your dented head hasn't injured your tongue," Marilla remarked. "The doctor is coming up the lane right now. I'll let him up to your room. I'm sure he'll want to see you before I let Diana and your friends see you. If you'll just let go of those flowers and wash your face, I'll bring him in." Marilla handed her a washcloth and left the room.

Anne looked down at the flowers still clutched in her hand. She had forgotten about them completely.

"Marilla, how did I get home? I don't remember anything after falling off the roof."

As Anne raised the washcloth to her face, she heard Marilla say just outside the door, "Gilbert Blythe carried you all the way from the McPherson's farm. Diana Barry and Fred Wright never left his side. You have some good friends, Anne Shirley. They've been worried sick about you."

Anne didn't say anything as she scrubbed her face but her mind was racing. Gilbert. Diana. Fred. They had taken care of her. He had taken care of her.

The thought of Gilbert carrying her all the way across farm and field was almost too much to bear. She could almost hear Ruby Gillis begging her to forgive him now. Diana telling her how chivalrous it was. How noble he had been to carry the body of the girl who swore to hate him forever.

She'd have to tell him that she forgave him. It wasn't the voices of her friends that convinced her but the small voice in her heart that told her she owed him that honor. What he would do with that friendship was up to him, but there could be no more bad blood between them based on the past. She groaned when she thought about apologizing.

"Ah, Miss Shirley is awake," said Doc Spencer as he came in the room. "I didn't know that I'd ever have the pleasure of having another conversation with you. How are you feeling?"

"Considerably rumpled in spirit and hurt in body. But I suppose that is what happens when you embarrass yourself infront of the entire body of your peers," Anne said as honestly as she could.

Doc Spencer laughed, "Glad to hear it. I'd be worried if you had any other sort of answer. Now I'm going to have to inspect you to make sure that you don't have any other lingering injuries. We know you broke your ankle but we need to make sure there aren't any hidden injuries." He pulled out some instruments from his case and explained what each of them were as he checked her eyes and head.

"I think you'll be fine, young lady. You may have some headaches from time to time. I don't pity you those and I'll leave some powders for you. Those will help. You won't be able to stand on your ankle for at least six weeks. I'm sorry to say that you'll miss most of the Avonlea summer, but you will be able to go back to school in the fall...as long as you don't have any brain injuries that crop up."

"You keep mentioning brain injuries. What exactly should we be keeping an eye out for?" Marilla asked.

"Headaches may be the worst of it. But you'll want to keep an eye on how often they come and how long they last. If they get worse or her eyesight is affected, you'll want to let me know. If Anne has problems choosing words - which I think we are safe from - you'll want to go over her vocabulary with her. I've heard of people who can't remember their names or who wake up being able to speak a new language. The brain is a mysterious thing, Marilla. Science and medicine have only scratched the surface of what goes on in our noggins."

He rummaged through his bag and continued the conversation, "I'll need you to keep a sharp eye on her Marilla. Let me know if anything changes. I'll write out the prescription for pain and headache powders. But keep her off her leg as much as possible."

"I understand."

"It will be mighty unorthodox, but I suggest you let Anne receive visitors in her room until she's able to hop down the stairs." He looked at Anne knowingly, "I don't want you to even think of trying it for a few more weeks. Matthew won't be able to carry you up and down the stairs and I'd hate for you to break your neck or your other ankle trying to manage them."

"So you mean I should let the visitors waiting outside the door in?" Marilla asked with a sparkle in her eye. "Anne, would you like to bathe first or see your visitors?"

Anne knew who was behind the door. She had been away from Diana for three and a half days. She could not wait another moment to see her bosom friend and find out what had really happened.

"Let her in!"

But Anne had not realized that Marilla had spoken in the plural. In rushed Diana Barry, her shadow Fred Wright, and a freshly scrubbed Gilbert Blythe. No wonder the doctor had said unorthodox!

"Anne, oh Anne! I was so worried about you!" Diana ran across the room with her black braids streaming behind her. Anne was smothered in kisses and hugs and Diana's tears. "You scared us so much and Anne, I haven't been so frightened in my life. When I saw you fall I thought that my life was going to be over and that my future daughter Anne would never meet her brave Aunt that was my most kindred of spirit and most bosomy of bosom friends in the entire world. Say my name, Anne. Say my name and let me know that you remember me!"

"Of course I remember you, Diana! The sun may fade and the moon fall into the sea but of course I will always remember my bosom friend, Diana Barry!" Anne said as she hugged Diana tightly.

Had she been watching, she would have seen Marilla exchange an amused look with the doctor before hiding a grin behind her hand. Fred was a little embarrassed by how many times bosoms had come up in the conversation and cleared his throat.

"Oh!" cried Diana. "I'm not the only one here to see you." She climbed on the bed next to Anne, holding her and making sure she did not jar Anne's ankle.

Fred Wright looked exactly as Anne had remembered him - red faced and a little chubby. She could not will herself to look at Gilbert just yet. She knew that once she did she would have to swallow the bitter pill of pride and openly repent and apologize.

"Anne, I hope that you are feeling better. You scared all of us. Please don't do anything like that again."

Fred was not one gifted with words like Anne or some of her close friends. He hardly spoke but when he did, it was always in halting, earnest tones. And while Anne was not particularly close with Fred Wright, she could sense that he thought it was important that he was here and paying his respects. He was Gilbert's best friend and had probably come to give him courage to face the red headed dragon that had recently awoken.

"I'm sorry to have scared you, Fred. Sorry to have scared everyone. I will never, ever, do anything like that again. The rest of the ridgepoles in Avonlea are safe from me!"

"That's really good to hear, Anne. I'm glad you are okay." He had exhausted his energy by saying his piece and was rewarded by a brilliant smile from Diana. He stepped aside to let Gilbert in next to Anne's bedside.

Anne didn't want to look at Gilbert. Would he be mocking her? Pitying her? She wasn't sure which one would have been worse. The whole room drew silent as they watched the meeting of the enemies.

"Anne, I'm awfully sorry you fell. I thought you might like some fresh flower today, to bring the beauty of the forest in. I know it's not as nice as a ramble through the woods, but well, I thought you might like them." Gilbert held out a fresh bouquet of lilies, and his heart, to Anne.

Anne's eyes grew wide. She felt as if she were meeting Gilbert Blythe for the first time. There were no traces of mockery in his eyes or his words. He was offering her friendship once again. She took the bouquet wordlessly and kneeled her head down to drink in the scent of the valley that she loved so well. Her thoughts were whirling around madly.

Gilbert ran his free hand through his dark curls nervously and then spoke again. "I also brought you this," he said in a hurry as he placed a small leather journal on Anne's bed. "I figured you would be off your feet for awhile and would get bored, so I thought you might want to have a journal to collect all your thoughts in. I know you like poetry and I thought you may want to write some of your own."

The words came out in a tumble and Anne was overwhelmed by his kindness. Her enemy was a kindred spirit after all!

She finally lifted her head and looked at Gilbert. Her eyes roved his face, studying him, memorizing him, and establishing the fact that she had long suspected: he was one of the most handsome boys that she had ever met.

Finally, she spoke.

"Who are you?"

To Anne, she was voicing the question her young soul demanded the answer to. He was far more noble and good than she had ever imagined. She wasn't sure what to think of him. But to everyone else in the room, their worst fears had been confirmed.

Anne Shirley had amnesia.


	7. Chapter 7 - With No MistakesYet

_Author note: I've had to go back and change a few details around the story. I was having a hard time managing the timelines of the book and the 80s miniseries. A few of you had reached out to gently ask about the timeline so I'm changing it. The last thing I want to do is confuse the reader!_

 _In this version, Anne is 14 and Gilbert is almost 17. Like most fourteen year old girls, Anne has her moments of childishness (see roof, grudges, and well...see the end of this chapter). She has a good heart and bad memories stitched together with imagination and the best of intentions._

* * *

At first, no one spoke and then everyone spoke at once. Anne couldn't make heads or tales of what anyone was saying save Gilbert who was leaning forward earnestly.

"I'm Gilbert Blythe."

"Are we friends?" Anne asked anxiously. Her eyes were still locked on Gilbert's. Searching. She wondered why he had said his name but she had to know if he'd forgive her.

Gilbert nodded seriously, "Friends."

Anne sighed, smiled, and then leaned back on her pillow. "Good. I think I'd like to be your friend."

There. She had no need to apologize. No need to say the words. The past was gone. Gilbert had offered her a fresh slate and this time, she had accepted it instead of smashing it over his head.

"I think Anne needs some rest," Doc Spencer said in the even tones he was known for. "Marilla, you and Diana may stay, but the gentlemen will have to be excused."

Gilbert and Fred left the room. Fred left thinking about Diana's radiant smile, while Gilbert left wondering just what had just happened in Anne's bedroom. It felt like two very different conversations had gone on simultaneously in his short interaction with Anne. If Anne couldn't remember him, then why was it so important to her that they be friends? And if she couldn't remember, had he just lied when he said they were friends?

"You're overthinking it, Blythe," Fred had said as they cut across the Haunted Woods. "Just be happy that she's speaking to you."

Back in Anne's bedroom, the conversation between Anne and Diana was happening along similar lines. Marilla and Doc Spencer had stepped out of the room to discuss Anne's injuries away and left the two girls on the bed.

"Out of all the people in the world to forget, Anne, how could you forget _him_?"

Anne smiled. Hitting your head and forgetting an enemy sounded like a poetic way to have a fresh start in life. "Why, it would be like waking up to a new day. Fresh. With no mistakes in it yet," she murmured.

"Can you tell me about the Blythe boy?" she asked Diana. She wanted to know more about the boy she had ignored. The boy whose name she had promised to never say.

Diana stared at her bosom friend in agony. If Anne didn't remember Gilbert, she didn't want to repeat their history and have Anne hate him all over again. Fate had given them a fresh start. She had seen the way Anne had looked at Gilbert when he handed her the journal. They would be chums. Diana felt a queer heart pang. Would Gilbert take her place as Anne's most kindred of spirits?

"What...would you like to know?" Diana asked carefully. The Anne she knew would have died before asking questions about that person.

"Has he always been so kind?" Anne asked quietly.

"He's had his moments." That wasn't a lie. "He has always had a good heart. He used to be an awful tease and call the girls all sorts of names at school."

Anne's expression never wavered when Diana mentioned teasing at school. That's when Diana made her decision. Her dear Anne had amnesia. It was her job as a bosom friend to paint Gilbert in the best possible light. For Anne's own good. She needed to know that Gilbert wasn't the brigand that she had cast him to be and be convinced of it before her memories of him came back. Diana had always liked Gilbert and felt torn between her childhood friend and her best friend. No more.

She sat next to Anne and recounted tale after tale of Gilbert Blythe. The way that he had won the Sunday School Bible memorization contest every year. The time he rescued Josie Pye from drowning when she was a young child and how Josie had always looked to him as her hero after that. How the Blythes and the Barrys used to dine together and how Mrs. Lynde's youngest daughter Prudence would watch the children. How everyone had cried in the Avonlea school when Gilbert went out west with his father so suddenly. And how Gilbert had suddenly returned, just before Anne.

The Gilbert that Anne heard about that afternoon sounded just short of perfect. Anne couldn't bring herself to believe all the tales Diana spun, but even if only half of them were true, he wasn't the villain after all. She was.

She looked at the flowers again and groaned. This was a Jonah day.

"Is it your head? Are you alright? Should I fluff your pillows again for you dearest? If talking about Gilbert makes your head spin, I'll just button my lips and you'll never hear his name uttered from my lips ever again."

"No, Diana. I'm alright. Really, I am. Today has just been overwhelming for me. I suppose that's what happens when you've been rendered unconscious for days."

Diana nodded sympathetically. "And to wake up and discover that you have amnesia. You're really awfully brave, Anne. If there's anyone else you can't remember, you just tell me and I'll let you know. Would you like me to go to church and school with you? I can be your shadow and when you see a face that you don't recognize, you just whisper or squeeze my hand real tight and let me know."

Anne smiled widely, "Diana Barry, I think that may be the most noble thing that anyone has ever said to me."

"I should be going, Anne. But I'm awfully glad you haven't forgotten me." Diana squeezed her friend's hand and left the room with the promise that she'd be back in the morning.

Anne was left with her thoughts. Somehow, Diana and everyone else she supposed, had gotten the impression that when she hit her head, the fall had wiped out every memory of Gilbert with it. How wonderful it would be if she could erase the painful past between them. She wouldn't have to apologize for something she didn't remember. And it wouldn't be lying if she just never talked about Gilbert before the fall. That would be easy enough. She had spent years ignoring him. Now they could be friends. Maybe even chums one day.

She closed her eyes with a smile. It would be like waking up to a new day, fresh, with no mistakes in it yet.


	8. Chapter 8 - What a Tangled Web

"I'm worried about Anne, Matthew." Marilla said as she sat next to her brother later that night around the kitchen table. "Doc Spencer is too. She couldn't remember that Blythe boy today. She recognized everyone else just as plain as could be, but not Gilbert. When he gave her his presents today, she looked at him as if she'd never seen him before. She even asked him who he was."

Matthew frowned and listened as his sister continued. "What if she wakes up tomorrow and doesn't remember us? Or what if she doesn't remember how to read? Addling the brain is no gentle matter."

"What does Doc Spencer say?" Matthew asked. His visit with Anne had been brief as she had fallen asleep a few minutes after he had gotten there. He had stared at his girl and watched her stir, but he couldn't will himself to wake her.

"He says that the human brain is a tiresomely tricky thing. That Anne may have more memories missing or it may just be Gilbert. He says that she may wake up and remember everything and at the same time, she may wake up and not remember anything at all. He's going to send a wire to another doctor he knows in Halifax and see if he knows any cases like this."

Matthew shrugged and didn't say much. He knew that Anne and Gilbert were two sides of the same coin - more alike than Anne would ever care to admit. Much like he and Jo. Amnesia or not, there was no way that Anne could forget the Blythe boy.

"Time will tell, Marilla. Much like it always does. Don't you worry about Anne waking up and forgetting you. She won't."

"That's just what Rachel said this afternoon," Marilla said dryly. "I never thought I'd live to see the day where you would agree with Rachel!"

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day," Matthew said as he got up and shuffled his way to his room. "Goodnight, Marilla. Things will look better in the morning."

Things would be better in the morning.

Sleep would not come to Diana Barry that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she thought of Anne waking up and not knowing who Gilbert Blythe was. What if Anne discovered there were other things she didn't remember?

Diana snuck out of her bed and sat down at the writing desk in the guest room at the back of the house. She could hear her parents snoring in their bedroom down the hall. If she was quick and quiet, she would be able to help Anne.

 _A Secret Catalogue of Characters of Anne Shirley's Grand Life in Avonlea_

Diana started writing her mostly true account, chronicling the people who made up Anne's circle of friends. Anne may have said she remembered everyone else, but there was no way to know. She wouldn't exactly know who she forgot, now could she?

Around three o'clock in the morning, Diana folded a sheet of paper, blew out her candle and made her way back to her room.

When she finally fell asleep, she was smiling. The future would be rosy for Anne Shirley.

 _Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert - heroic siblings who opened their home and hearts to adopt an orphan girl. They love you very much even if they do not know how to show it all of the time. They have a tragic and mysterious past that they do not talk about. But they are just like family to you. And you have lived with them since you were 11 years old. You are now 14. Marilla can be very prickly at times but Matthew is gentle and kind._

 _Diana Barry - your bosom friend. You ate ice cream for the first time at a picnic with me. We also won a three legged race, making Avonlea history! We sit next to each other at school and nothing will separate us. We are going to go to the Carmody Ball one day and make everyone jealous of our beauty and puffed sleeves._

 _Mrs. Rachel Lynde - Marilla's best friend. Sometimes you disagree with her but you are always respectful and kind to her_ _even when she is unkind_ _. Mrs. Lynde knows everyone and it's best to stay on her good graces._

 _Mr. & Mrs. Allan - the new minister and his wife. You ADORE them. They are so kind and gracious and it's so romantic the way that they look at each other. Mr. Allan lends you some of the poetry books from his library and Mrs. Allan looks like a fashion plate come to life. We have had tea with her twice!_

 _Gilbert Blythe - He's the cleverest boy in our class - and the handsomest. He has a sense of humor that gets him in trouble but he has a very good heart. He had to put his school on hold to go out West with his father, who was very sick, and with whom Marilla was in love with years ago._

 _Charlie Sloan - A Sloan. Which means he is very good and pious and expects everyone to rejoice in the honor of knowing him. He would be very agreeable if he had a sense of humor. Charlie thinks you are the smartest girl at school. He likes to walk with you after school as far as you will let him._

 _Moody McPherson - Good and pious and is honored to know everyone. He's going to go to Queen's in two years and is very studious. He will probably grow up to be a minister because he's that good._

 _Fred Wright - Good and sensible. Fred is Gilbert's best friend and someone you can always count on to do the right thing. All of the mothers in Avonlea want their daughters to marry someone steady and good like Fred, but handsome and clever like Gilbert. He used to go to school with us but he's working at his father's farm now. He's the other islander with red hair._

 _Billy Andrews - Jane Andrew's older brother. He's much older than us. But sometimes he drives us home from the Andrew's house. He doesn't talk or laugh much but he always likes to be around us._

 _Josie Pye - A Pye. Which means she is proud and pious and expects everyone to worship the ground she walks on. Josie is jealous of you and sometimes does silly things to try to feel superior. She dared you to walk the ridge pole but you took her up on it. Stay away from Josie! She also writes the "take notices" on the porch wall at school before everyone arrives but will never admit to it._

 _Jane Andrews - Jane is good and kind. She would make a good minister's wife...perhaps someone should tell Moody? Her sister, Prissy, ran away with our school teacher, Mr. Phillips, right when you were falling off the roof. The Andrews are a good family and everyone was shocked at the news. Prissy flirted with the teacher an awful lot but no one thought she would run away and marry him! Even if they were courting. Sometimes Prissy reminds me of you, Anne, with her cleverness and quick spirit, but none of the other Andrew's inherited that fire to learn. Jane is nice and a good friend. A little boring but not everyone can be Prissy._

 _Julia Bell- Josie Pye's best friend. She has so many freckles that Gilbert Blythe once said he studied the multiplication table just by looking at them! She likes you though, even though Josie has tried to convince her not to._

 _Ruby Gillis - Ruby is smart but she's not half as clever as you are. She's already trying to wear her hair up and attract the attention of her sister's beaus. She says she wants a string of them to match the string of pearls her father promised her for her 16th birthday in two years. She is always third place in our class and is Jane Andrew's bosom friend._

 _Please do not show this paper to anyone, Anne dear. This is for your personal reference only. - Diana_

* * *

 _Author's note - life got a little crazy busy. I'm sorry that I let this story rest for so long. I'm not sure where it's heading but I hope we're all having fun along the journey._


	9. Chapter 9 - We Weave

Anne stared down at the sheet of paper Diana had delivered for the eighteenth time and let out a long sigh. Telling Diana the truth now would be to betray her in a way Anne never wanted to. She would have to live with the consequences of her sin of omission.

She stared out the window bleakly. It had been five days since she had fallen off the roof and she hadn't been out of her room once. Worse still, no one had come to Green Gables that day to see her. Diana had given her the paper the day before and then left her to memorize the facts about her life...even if they weren't strictly true.

A summer rain had come to the island and Anne felt as if she were cut off from the world. She had caught a glimpse of Gilbert that morning. He had been whistling as he made his way through the Haunted Woods and up to Green Gables. But he hadn't even so much as glanced up at Anne's window as he passed under it on his way to the barn nor when he left. Not that she had wanted him to. But the truth was that Anne was growing so lonesome she would have even welcomed seeing Charlie Sloan's goggly eyes for a change.

A knock on her door startled Anne. She quickly smoothed her hair and tucked the piece of paper under her pillow.

Rachel Lynde came into the room, filling it with her presence. She was carrying a tea tray and set it down on foot of Anne's bed.

"Here you are my child," Rachel said warmly. "I've brought you some warm tea and a good book to keep you company on a day like today. I was cleaning out my daughter's room and came across some religious books that I thought you may enjoy. I can't stay long but I thought Marilla needed a break from all of her fretting."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lynde. That's very kind of you."

Rachel nodded, "I see you haven't forgotten me! Now don't you worry, Miss Anne. To the rest of the island, you've just taken a tumble. I've made sure that no one knows that you've injured your brain. But to help you out, I've written a list of your classmates for you to reference. My Thomas drew pictures of them too just so you would have some faces to put with names. You'll find the list tucked there in the middle of Pilgrim's Progress. That should give you some interesting reading."

She moved the tea pot next to Anne's bed before handing her the book from the tray. Once she made sure Anne's pillows were fluffed and that she was suitably comfortable, she left the room in search of Marilla.

But before she left, she turned and said, "Anne child, have I told you that I've always thought your hair is a lovely shade of auburn?"

Anne stared at the closed door and then collapsed against her pillow with a fit of giggles. Apparently Mrs Lynde wasn't above changing Anne's memories when it suited her. Anne wasted no time in opening up the book and pulling out the paper the Lynde's had given her. She hadn't known that Thomas Lynde was an artist, but there was a great many things about that man she could never even imagine to know.

 _Character Sketches of Anne's Avonlea Schoolmates_

 _Diana Barry - Diana is what you call your "bosom friend" - although as you become a young lady, perhaps a better title would be more suitable. Diana is beautiful with raven hair and a good complexion. Her mother and father have high hopes for Diana and are providing music lessons for her. Diana will take her place in Avonlea society as a genteel woman of influence. She is already doing so at the Avonlea school, without filling her mind with nonsense about higher education. There are rumors, although I never would stoop to spread rumors, that she will be sent to a "finishing school" for young ladies by her Great Aunt to prepare her for society outside of Avonlea._

 _Josie Pye - The poor girl has been mad with shame for the way she has treated you so disgracefully all these years. Josie is a clever girl who wastes her intelligence playing games and trying to rule the schoolyard. Her parents are wealthy and do not like to be crossed. They've had their hands full with their daughters and sometimes get the queerest ideas about discipline. All of their girls could have benefited with a good spanking when they first started getting into trouble. They aren't a bad family, Anne, so don't think that. But they can be pinched in their personalities._

 _Jane Andrews - When the Lord was handing out gifts, He gave the lions share of beauty to Ruby Gillis while Jane Andrews went home with the gift of faithfulness and goodness. All of the Andrews are remarkably good, besides Prissy, who has recently become remarkable in the worst way. However, the Andrews are respected and more importantly, respectable. Perhaps it sounds like Jane doesn't have munch in the way of personality. Even Thomas' portrait shows a pretty girl with a blank face. That's what Jane is. A pretty girl who hasn't quite decided what she's going to be. All of her family has opinions but Jane has kept her tongue for so long that I suspect she doesn't have much in the way of opinions. You never know with the quiet ones they say. But you can be sure that she will be good and kind, no matter what she decides about her future._

 _Ruby Gillis - Avonlea's beauty. She's a sweet girl who loves to laugh and enjoy life. Ruby is someone who feels emotions very deeply, much like you, Anne, but I doubt that girl has ever had one of your "Jonah" days in her life. Her family is much the same. I don't know that I've known a more merry family. Everything they do seems blessed by Providence._

 _Charlie Sloan - The Sloans consider themselves Avonlea royalty and Charlie their crown prince. I can't say that I know why they feel that they've earned that title but money does strange things to people. So does intermarriage to one's cousins. The Sloan family tree is so tangled it's more of a bush. Charlie is a good, serious minded young man. He's matured quite a bit in the last few years and will be going to Queens and then University to study. He will do his best to live up to his family legacy._

 _Gilbert Blythe - Life is never dull with a Blythe nearby. Gilbert was a mischievous boy who has grown up to be compassionate. He is smart and may follow his uncle's footsteps into medicine if he has any sense. Gilbert is practical, helpful, and not afraid of hard work. The Blythes are well respected and their farm is prosperous, although John Blythe has had some health problems in the past. They've sold off portions of the farm to keep things manageable. They have some of the best apples on the Island and Mrs. Blythe is famous for her apple pie. And for the way she dotes on her son._

 _Moody McPherson - The McPherson family is a bit strange. All of their boys have names that start with "M" which has caused a lot of confusion over the years. Mrs. McPherson is a Scottish woman who they say used to run a bakery. She certainly has a large kitchen and produces an ample amount of food to feed her sons! Moody is a good young man who has expressed interest in pursuing the ministry. His mother has expressed interest in all of her boys marrying young and staying on the farm. Mr. McPherson doesn't say much of anything at all._

 _Fred Wright - The Wrights moved to Avonlea ten years ago from America, seeking a quieter life. The story goes that one Wright brother went west while the other went north, seeking their fortune. Fred is the only son of Jebidiah Wright and has five sisters. His father owns a large dairy farm at the edge of town and Fred left school to tend to it. Fred is turning into a fine young man and has hair just as red as yours - I say this not because there is anything wrong with red hair - but so that you will always recognize Fred when you see him._

 _Those are the young men and women in your class at school. I've given you the truth about all of them so you do not forget them. I trust that you'll keep this account to yourself. - Mrs Lynde._

An honest account indeed.

* * *

Author's note: After Diana wrote a note explaining who people were, I knew Rachel would soon be interjecting with her POV. Hopefully it's as humorous to read as it was to write. XO


	10. Chapter 10 - When First We

Anne had long had her imagination as her constant companion but she missed wandering through the farmland. She missed roaming the wilds with Diana and listening to the babbling brooks that dotted the area. She could imagine those things to her heart's content, but for the first time in her young life, she felt that her imagination was not enough. She longed to step outside her room - to step at all! It had been three weeks and she longed to be back on her own.

Marilla had been long suspected of not having a maternal bone in her body. But Doc Spencer's word had scared here deeply and she would not allow to even think of taking a step. She was constantly bustling in and out of Anne's room, waiting on her, and encouraging her to ring a bell or call for her when Anne needed anything.

Anne had few visitors. It was summer. She no longer saw her chums daily nor even weekly. Jane Andrews had come by a few times but Diana was the one constant companion. And she had just left for a month long trip with her infamous Aunt Josephine. A trip that Anne would have been invited to go along on if she hadn't been confined to her bed.

She sighed. It had only been two days since Diana had left and she missed her terribly.

Charlie Sloan had visited her that morning to tell her how awful _he_ felt that she had been hurt and that he was sorry that he hadn't carried her home. He felt even worse that it had taken him so long to see her too. Anne had tried not to smile when he stood just outside her bedroom door -a Sloan would _never_ do anything so improper as to be in a young lady's room - and apologize. Charlie was officious and annoying, but there was something about him that deeply amused Anne.

"I wish Diana was here to laugh with me," Anne said quietly.

Anne found herself thinking about boys far more often than she had before. She had never paid much attention to Fred Wright before her accident. He had been a pleasant background character in the periphery her life. The bland best friend of her nemesis. But what both Diana and Mrs. Lynde had written about him made her wonder why she had never really noticed him before. While he did not seem to have any characteristics of a kindred spirit, he seemed like a good hearted young man.

"He's just... _Fred_ ," she muttered under her breath as she attacked her needlepoint again. She didn't like the idea of having overlooked someone so important. Had she truly been so blind?

She hadn't spoken to Fred or Gilbert since the day she woke up. She knew that Gilbert came to Green Gables every morning to help with the chores. She had seen him pass under her window and head to the barn in the wee hours of the morning. She had heard his cheerful voice on the morning breeze, talking to Matthew, drawing him out more than she ever had. And she knew that on every Friday, he gave Marilla a bouquet of wildflowers for her. Marilla brought them while she napped and set them by Anne's bedside.

But it was a Wednesday afternoon and the world was quiet. Last week's wildflowers had already passed and it would be two long days before Anne would have nature at her fingertips again.

A knock at the front door caught her attention. She heard Marilla open the door and have some words with the visitor. She couldn't make out what they were saying though. Then she heard Marilla close the door and two sets of footsteps make their way up the case.

"Anne," Marilla said as she entered the doorway, "there's someone here to see you."

A youngish woman of thirty some years came into the room. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a tidy knot and her eyes danced as if she knew a delicious secret. Best of all, she had a stack of books tucked under her arms.

"Hello Anne. My name is Muriel Stacey and I'm your new teacher."

"You may call her Miss Stacey," said Marilla, ever the stickler for rules. "I'll leave you two for a while to get acquainted."

"Please have a seat," said Anne as she straightened up in her bed. "I'm sorry that I'm not in a better state to receive you but I'm afraid that my tongue and temper have proven to be my folly and thus, I am imprisoned in my bed."

Muriel Stacey laughed and sat down. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Anne blushed, "I fell off the ridgepole of a roof and broke my ankle." There was no need to tell her new teacher everything.

"I haven't ever walked the ridgepole of a roof but I have a healthy respect for anyone who has," Miss Stacey smiled. "Every day holds fresh opportunity. Sometimes you just need a new perspective to see it."

Anne smiled back. This teacher was nothing like Mr. Phillips. "Where are you from?"

"Oh, I came in with the East Wind," was the cheerful reply. "I grew up in Montreal, fell in love with learning and have been teaching school for longer than I'd care to admit. For the next two years, Avonlea will be my home. I've been contracted to help broaden the futures of young Avonlea scholars. And I've been told that you, Miss Shirley, are one of the brightest students that Avonlea has ever seen."

"I've also been told," Miss Stacey went on, "that you have plenty of time on your hands this summer. I'd like to invite you to a small study group this summer. It won't be as robust as your studies during the school year, but it would be some reading and assignments that would help keep you occupied while you are recovering."

Muriel Stacey was nothing if not enterprising. She had accepted the Avonlea job on a whim. A romantic disappointment in Istanbul had left a bad taste in her mouth at her lost school and when an opportunity had presented itself on a picturesque island...well, she knew that she would waste no time in claiming it.

The pay was fair and the work would be worth it. Avonlea was a sleepy town but full of talent that just needed to be woken up. If Muriel could help it, the town would come alive in academic pursuits. There would be recitations, contests, and of course, a class of scholars making their way to Queens Academy. She had done this work before in Nova Scotia. She would do it again on Prince Edward Island.

From what she had heard about Anne, Muriel knew the girl had promise. Teddy Phillips had been many things but he had recognized talent, even in his most distracted, peevish state. When she was considering the job, she had immediately written to the previous schoolmaster, asking him who were the sharpest minds in his class.

The reply had been almost immediate.

 _Gilbert Blythe - Clever and determined to succeed. Do not let him settle into becoming a farmer. He's made for greater things if only he has the appetite for it._

 _Anne Shirley - Very smart but often lost in a daydream and fanciful prose. If Anne can channel her temper and imagination, her world will open up._

 _Josie Pye - She has the capacity to learn a great many things. Unfortunately, she is often distracted by intrigues of her own making._

 _Jane Andrews - Methodical in her ways. She has a strong mind but does not always speak up. She likes to hang back and watch what others do before committing herself._

 _Ruby Gillis - Another bright young woman. She shows promise but it's not clear if she plans to pursue academia._

 _Moody McPherson - Dull but dedicated._

 _Charlie Sloan - Intellectually lazy but if he does the work, he can apprehend the topics. It's a matter of applying himself._

Muriel had plans for those seven students. Big plans. But Anne's voice brought her back to the present and the small upper room in Green Gables.

"I don't know how I'd be able to join a special class," Anne said slowly, "although in my spirit, I know that it's what I would like more than anything in the world."

"I've brought you a few books. Why don't I just leave them here with you to read? I can come back and pick them up...next week? Would that be enough time for you?" she asked. She had brought Anne a small collection of Jane Austen books as well as a book of Tennyson. She would get Anne interested in books that appealed to the young girl's tastes and then slowly broaden her palette to include the masters.

Anne's eyes grew wider. "You mean it? You'd let me borrow those? Oh Miss Stacey, I would be so delighted. Thank you, thank you!"

Muriel laughed, "You are quite welcome, Miss Shirley. Once you've finished those, I'll bring some more books. I'll note that you are interested in the special class. And I'll figure out how to accommodate your injury when it starts up. Until then, rest up and read up. Would you like me to read you a selection of poems? Tennyson is one of my favorite poets and a joy to read aloud."

Muriel sat with Anne for an hour, reading her poems and learning more about the young girl. Anne may be caught up in daydreams but Muriel knew firsthand that a young girl's imagination was often a way for her to make sense of her life. She was going to get along well with the young Miss Shirley.

* * *

 _Author's note: I apologize for the filler chapters and the delay in writing. Life!_


	11. Chapter 11 - Practice to Deceive

It was Friday afternoon and Anne was lost in a book as she lay on her bed. The books that Miss Stacey dropped off had provided her with fresh scope for imagination. Her hair was tied back in a long fiery braid and she idly twirled on the end of the braid as she read. She had spent the morning peeking into the domestic lives of the Bennet sisters and now was mentally chastising Elizabeth Bennett for ever allowing Mr. Darcy to get under her skin.

She heard scraping on the other side of the door but the sounds had been going on for quite awhile. The muffled sounds of Marilla giving someone orders and Mrs. Lynde giving her opinion. She had thought she had smelled fresh paint but she had propped open her window, breathing in the wild, fresh ocean air. Poor Jerry Boute was earning his wage.

"Where would you like this to go, Miss Cuthbert?"

But it wasn't Jerry Boute's voice that she heard just on the other side of her door. Her cheeks turned pink when she realized that the voice belonged to Gilbert Blythe. Marilla must have decided to put him to work as well on another one of her unending projects.

Anne resolutely turned her attention back to the page in front of her. She had spent years mastering the fine art of ignoring Gilbert and she put those skills to good use. She wanted to find out what happened to the Bennetts much more than she wanted to know what Gilbert was doing outside her door.

That's just what the old Anne would do.

Her eyes grew wide. That is what the old Anne would do but the new Anne didn't remember Gilbert and had no reason to ignore him. The new Anne would surely call out to find out what was going on. Would Marilla be suspicious that she hadn't tried to get out of her room? What was proper?

Starting fresh was hard.

The noise outside her room was growing louder. Anne lay very still on her bed and let her book rest on her chest. As soon as she saw the door handle slowly turn, she closed her eyes and adjusted her breathing.

"Just as I thought - sleeping!" came Rachel Lynde's voice. "Anne child, it's time to wake up. There's something that Marilla wants to show you."

Anne opened her eyes lazily - she had learned to master the art of pretend sleeping while living at the Hammonds - and said, "Oh! I must have fallen asleep."

"That's what will happen when you always have your nose in a book, I say. I can't understand what in tarnation you find so fascinating in books with such tiny print. But here, here's a washcloth. Wash your face and then try to stand up and lean on me." Rachel said briskly. She knew that there were easier ways to get Anne out of the room but being a good member of the church, she just didn't think it proper to let Jerry or Gilbert carry Anne out of bed and into the other room. Marilla had a soft spot for that girl but Rachel was not about to let any hint of scandal come to Green Gables. Poor Matthew would have carried Anne out but he was not fit to even carry a bag of seed these days. Green Gables was in sore shape, that's what. It needed Anne's joyful spirit back.

Anne obediently washed her face, trying to stay composed. Sleeping Anne would not have heard all the noises or been curious about what was going on the spare room next door. The door had been locked for as long as Anne had been at Green Gables.

"You want me to stand up?" Anne asked.

"I'll help you," Rachel said as she gently tugged Anne toward her. "Now just lean against me and hop."

Hop. Mrs. Lynde was telling her to hop. Anne smiled. What a very strange day indeed.

Anne hopped across her room - she had been practicing the skill when she knew Green Gables was empty. She hopped through the open doorway and paused, "Where shall I go next?"

The door next to hers opened up and Matthew came out, "Come in here, please."

She took Matthew's hand and hopped into the room. It was twice the size of her bedroom with three big windows that looked out into the yard. Sunlight streamed through them, past a cozy window seat with pillows, past freshly painted white walls, and grazing on the dark wood floors. There were three stuffed chairs in the room neatly situated around a thick rug that looked to be handwoven best of all, there was a bookcase against the wall Anne's room shared and it was full of old, thick books. The bookcase held a fresh bouquet of wildflowers, brightening up the walls.

"Am I dreaming? This is...heaven!" Anne said softly.

Marilla stood up from her chair, "No child. This is to be your study. A parlor of sorts."

Anne let out a long sigh, "Now I know that I am dreaming. Pinch me, Matthew."

Matthew chuckled and pinched her softly, "You aren't dreaming, Anne."

"It wouldn't be proper for your friends to always come and see you in your room," Marilla said with a quick glance towards Rachel, "This room has sat empty for thirty years and I thought it was going to sit empty for another thirty. It was Matthew's idea to turn this into a room for your use. So you may receive your visitors in here. And since you will not be able to go into town to have classes with Miss Stacey, she will come and tutor you here. I hope you aren't too disappointed," she finished dryly.

Anne's starry eyes filled with tears, "This...this is the second happiest day of my life. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Matthew carefully led Anne to the window seat and sat down beside her. "We want you to be happy, Anne."

"Oh Matthew, I am happy. I am! I don't know how I could be any happier!"

He squeezed her hand. He thought his heart would burst from his own happiness. He had missed the sparkle in her eyes.

Marilla cleared her throat trying to keep her own tears from showing themselves. "There are still a few more people to thank. This may have been Matthew's idea but he had help. You can come back in now."

Anne watched as Jerry and Gilbert came into the room. Jerry was just as he'd ever been, his shirt untucked and a smudge of dirt across his face. Gilbert was watching her carefully, his dark eyes cautiously meeting hers. Anne didn't have to pretend to feel gratitude. She could only imagine the hard work the two boys had done, bringing Matthew's dream to life.

She felt like flinging herself across the room and telling them how grateful she was. She could have groveled in gratitude for days. But instead, she let her tears spill over and simply said, "Thank you."

* * *

A little shorter but I was on a roll after yesterday! And I wanted to get Gilbert back in the picture.


	12. Chapter 12 - A Decision is Made

There had never been any scenario in Anne's mind that seemed more strange and wonderful than the one happening to her at that exact moment. She had always dreamed of a library of her own but been content to just dream. And a parlor! That was even better than being given the spare room or being allowed to wear your hair up.

She sat in her window seat feeling like a queen on her throne, looking down at her own small kingdom. Marilla, Matthew, and Rachel had left with the young men but it wasn't long before Jerry and Gilbert were back, their arms loaded down with books of all shapes and sizes. Even having the two of them there felt right somehow.

"Do you really like it?" Jerry asked as he handed the books to Gilbert. Gilbert was sitting on the floor with his back to Anne, slowly putting books onto the shelves.

"I do," Anne said with a happy sigh. She felt as if her heart were going to burst. She had been given so much. "It's a queer little feeling to have one of your dreams come true and to have it happen so close to home."

"I can't understand being so excited about books," Jerry said ruefully. "My family cares nothing for book learnin' and none of us were ever allowed up in the Avonlea school."

"You weren't allowed?" Anne asked sharply.

She watched as Jerry shrugged. "No, miss. That's just not the way of the island. We're outsiders and we belong to the seas and the farms and our old ways."

"Who says?"

"'Bout everyone I 'spect. My broth'r tried going to school once and was sent home before the school bell had even finished ringin'. It just isn't meant to be. 'Sides, what good are books when you've got cows to milk and barns to build?"

"But you've got to learn! It's what keeps your soul alive on the dark nights. It's what gives you hope, even when everything around you intones that you should abandon hope, ye who enter here. Haven't you ever felt the wind howling through your bones on a fierce night? It's books that remind you that storms pass and that the sun will always rise again in the morning. It's books that tell you there are people who have faced much greater adversities than you have and that Providence has used those adversities to build a greatness of character and a sense of purpose." Anne sighed, "There will always be cows to milk and barns to build. But at the end of the day, it's a book you want to curl up with. My parents were school teachers so I suppose the love of learning flows through my blood. I intend on reading every book that I can get my hands on."

"A teacher?" Gilbert asked, refocusing his attention on shelving the pile of books on the floor. Anne never ceased to surprised him.

Anne didn't look at him as she responded. It was easier to look out the window. "It sounds ambitious, doesn't it? It's just one of my ambitions - I intend to write books one day as well. It's delightful to have ambitions. I'm so glad I have such a lot. And there never seems to be any end to them - and that's the best of it. Just as soon as you attain one ambition, you see another one glittering higher up still. It does make life so interesting. What about you, Gilbert?"

Gilbert slowly turned around. Anne speaking to him outside of his dreams was something he wasn't used to. "I have so ideas about what I'd like my future to look like but they seem like they are in a different sphere than the one I live in. My uncle is a doctor and I'd like to take after him."

"You don't want to farm?" Jerry asked in surprise. "You have some of the best farmland in Avonlea."

"It's a good farm but there's a great big world that I'd like to experience. I want to study and learn all that I can and then help people," Gilbert said. "What about you, Jerry?"

The young farmhand shrugged and then finally admitted, "I 'spose I'd like to learn how to read. I wouldn't like to go to school - that's never been the way of a Boute." The words came out in a rush, "But I see all those books and I see how Miss Anne loves them so and I see how you want to learn them all, and I want to know what those books say. If it's hope like herself says, then I need some of that. If it's new opportunities like you say, I 'spect I'd like to see those as well. But then I wonder if all that larnin' is for good. None of my family can read and that's served us just fine."

"Do you really and truly want to learn? Or is that something you're just saying?" Anne asked.

Jerry shrugged, "I never thought of it much til Miss Cuthbert had me help situate this room. Don't

S'pose I'll ever learn my letters. Not when there are farmers that need help."

Anne felt a brief stab of pain at the thought of not being able to read. She never would have survived life before Green Gables if she hadn't been able to escape to the worlds that had fit in her pockets, opening her heart to the possibility of a beautiful someday. She didn't know the Boutes or their family history but a fierce feeling was rising up inside of her. She had been given so much and it was time for her to live up to her family's heritage.

"Jerry. I'll teach you," she announced gravely.

Jerry opened his mouth to protest but Anne waved him off. "Don't you worry, I won't tell anyone and if I have to make Gil swear an oath, I will. I've taught children how to read and I'm sure that I'll be able to teach you."

Gilbert nodded, "And I'll sit up here with you so no one suspects anything. It will be our secret."

Jerry looked from Anne to Gilbert. He wasn't sure what had just happened but it felt like his entire life had just been tilted on its side.

"Can I think about it? I don't 'pect Miss Cuthbert would be too happy with me spending my time learning my letters instead of sweeping the barn. Actually, I best be getting back to the cows," Jerry said as he suddenly stood up and ran out the room.

Anne frowned, "Why would he run away like that?"

Gilbert quietly stood up, "Sometimes it's hard to know what to do when you come face to face with one of your ambitions."

"But it's dear to his heart! He must learn how to read. He _must_!"

"That's what makes it even harder. If someone asked you right now, Queen Anne, if you would write a book for them, wouldn't you be the least bit hesitant? Wouldn't you be afraid of disappointing that person and yourself if you didn't achieve that ambition right away?"

Anne shook her head, "I read somewhere that some of the best things in life come through difficulties. I'd persevere until the end. My victory would taste that much sweeter." She thought of the countless nights she had spent studying well past Marilla's multiple reminders to go to bed, valiantly trying to earn the highest marks in her class.

Not that she would ever admit that to Gilbert.

Gilbert wisely said nothing and kept shelving the books.


End file.
